Our world is a small one .. one of balance .. of peace and war .. of light and dark... eveything has a name of a face .. a title or law .. but who came up with these? The gods? Man? .. but surely that would put man as powerful as god? Does man have right to that power?
Darkness .... a never ending darkness as far as the eye can see. grey tones flowling like a viscous liquid into black .. a dense smog hiding what feels like a rivers current below. no sounds reach the ears in this space only a dull roar from within. deep and bass, perhaps our own life force, perhaps a water fall.. who knows?
Words .. words with no colour. no distinct shape float past.. are they words? or symbols. do they mean anything or are they just there .. like everything else? "what is destiny?" ....... "can it be changed?" Are they even there?
A world? no a planet .. teeming with life. contuing the great circle, holding on and adapting, dieing and giving way to the new. forests full of creatures. Marketplaces cramped with merchants and their wares. A child being held within and old womans arms, smiles showing different thoughts feelings and attitudes. the niavety of the young. the pride of the old. all held together with some invisble rope .. fate destiny whatever you wish to call what the gods govern...
A face neither young nor old, not handsome nor ugly... the first, the created, sinner? , saint? ... Adam
His eyelids fluttering open, bleary soft blue eyes the colour of april rain. peaking through the blonde lashes. Taking in the detail of the white clouds and hued sky, streaks of pink and orange running past in the predawn dance running sharply into focus. Still not fully awake he shook his blonde quills away from his face and wriggled a few toes experimentally his hands gently entwined within the coils of another. her hair the colour of autumn leaves or fire, vibrant and alive. a far large contrast to they mellow sky as it fell silken and light between his fingertips and across his chest. His freckled arms lay across the leather of the sofa, still not moving, numb with sleep. slowly his partner stirred, encouraged by his movements. An elvin face poked through the curtain like falls of hair, smiling despite herself, throwing off the last dregs of sleep and dreams. the corners of her lips curled up every so slightly, adjusting her self under the silk cover allowing it to fall to her waist revealing darkish skin, a hand layed upon chest, rising and falling with each breath. Nuzzling into the flesh of his cheek her lips find a spot just behind his ear, where little hairs remain soft and curled, kissing them tenderly, feeling his body shake with faint surpise.
Patchwork dreamer · Mon Jul 17, 2006 @ 10:40pm · 1 Comments |